[dropcap]C[/dropcap]an you be ever back?
Those happy connections
Made in the heap of sand
Dumped by the lorries
For the construction of a house beside..
Those lovely little sentences
From the loveable lollypopped lips
In the kindergarten..
“My mummy gave me this”
Trying to hide hopefully
That half-a-meter long colourful crayon
In the new born friendship..
Wordsworth worried,
Blake begged,
Can you be ever back,
In this age of rational track?
Now, my friend in no sense,
Thy name Is innocence!
